


Diamonds are a Girls Best Friend

by saxophonesandcuesticks



Series: Midnight Reader [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, No there is no godmoding, Reader angst, Readers weapon choice is an umbrella, Violence, and its p badass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:09:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3866434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saxophonesandcuesticks/pseuds/saxophonesandcuesticks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're new to Midnight City. Like really new. Like: 'I just graduated and I'm on my own' type new. But with the fucking heirchy of politics that created a recession of sorts, you're right now living off unemployment. Your shitty apartment is what you can manage and still be able to eat and occasionally take the Midnight City Public Transportation system to explore the sights. The day that you finally finish moving in, you hop on the MCPT bus and come acoss a small jazz bar.</p><p>Little do you know, your life is about to change drastically and all because of one man in a mob of four.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Initial meeting

The rain patters lightly as you wait for the crosswalk to let you across. Its already been roughly three minutes and should turn any minute now, but the traffic system has its own plan and three turns to five, then to seven before finally changing over. You walk across quickly, even though there is still plenty of time on the counter, but Midnight City always has a dumbass driver around every corner willing to fucking run a red light. You make it across and check the time, there's still a few minutes before the MCPT bus arrived at the stop near your tiny, rinky-dink apartment. It isn't much, but since graduating, no one is really hiring 'green' college kids because of the stupid ass recession created by the State Legislature and its corrupted buddies. So, your place is what you can manage with unemployment and still be able to have food on your table made from a refurbished 18-wheeler tire and old supplies around the house. 

But anyway, you make it to the bus stop and hop on, not really knowing where to go since you just moved in a couple weeks ago and haven't looked around yet. After roughly 10 minutes of riding, you come across a small jazz bar entitled: The Silver Star. Thrilled at the discovery of it being not too far from your home (since public trans. takes a shit ton of back roads), you get off at the nearest stop and head in. A band composed of four black Carapace men step onto the stage with, or stand at their instruments. There's what seems to be a 7ft tall brute of a man with a double bass, a 6'5-ish (very, very hot) man with lean, toned muscle, a angry tempered man of about 5'10 at the beautiful grand piano, and a stout man of about 4'11 at the drums in the back. The men sync themselves for a moment, then they begin to play, and your eyes are glued to the stage (mainly at the second tallest), even after you've taken a seat at the bar and ordered a dirty peach martini. The men play a simple, yet complicated jazz tune you've never heard, but you're drawn to it and you sigh happily, enjoying the endorphins fuzzing your brain from both the drink and the music.

Once they finish their set (which is all too soon, really), the two with moveable instruments leave them back stage and dissapear into the crowd as another band gets on the stage. You turn around, slightly dissapointed and nurse the martini some more. Suddenly, you feel a warm shelled hand tracing up and down your spine, "You must be new 'round here doll. I've never seen ya before." says a warm, rich accented tone that sends a slight shiver down your spine, along with his touches. "Y-Yeah. Just moved here a few weeks ago after graduating college." you reply simply, earning a contemplative grunt from him and he sits down beside you, giving you the realization that its the saxophone player from earlier. Dear lord, he's even smoother and classier in person. And jesus, that is an expensive suit. Must be Armani. But this only adds to your hope that he doesn't take you home to your place. You'd feel way too ashamed. Hell, your cheeks are flushed right now. He grins, and sharp Dersian teeth peek out from behind his very....nice....lips.... "Doll?" you shake your head, startled slightly. "Hm?" you ask, cheeks flushing brighter at the dreamy tone in your voice. "Would you like to go for coffee tomorrow?" he asks, only slightly exasperated that he had to repeat himself. You nod, "Sure. What time and place?"

"There's a small café on fifth and Main, and how about eleven am?" you nod again, "Sounds good to me." you reply casually. He suddenly looks off in the distance and nods before turning back to you, "I'll be right back." he said gently, then left his seat. You realized you had to pee, so you finished your drink real quick (to prevent any date rape drugs from entering it), then headded off to the ladies room. When you came back, a drunken Prospitian grabbed your olive toned throat and shoved you into a broom closet. "Heh. Such a fine peach 'ere. Bet youse a cherry one too~" he slurred before attempting to get a hand in your pants. With his grimy mitt on your throat hard enough to cut your air supply in half, you can't scream. You try thrashing, but the idiot thinks you're liking it so he laughs loudly and continues, muttering filth about you being a trashy whore and the works. The hand on your neck has gotten tighter and the edges of your vision start graying. Then the door opens and the Prospitian turns around and swallows thickly, letting you go and you drop like a heavy sack to the floor in the process, nearly choking yourself just trying to breathe. "Ah, s-sorry D-Droog....." came the half slur, half stutter of a reply from the white male. "Get. Out." the black carapace angel demanded and the white carapace bolted out without another word. Droog then knelt down and turned his focus to you, "Are you alright Dollface?" he cooed softly at you. You nodded, despite knowing your pants were undone and practically to your knees, and your eyes watery from fear and effort of trying to breathe normally again. He shut the door and pulled you into his lap, trying to and succeeding at soothing your heavily frayed nerves. "Th-Thank you." you murmur softly. He shakes his head, "S'not a problem hon." Droog murmured softly as he helped you redress. "Just promise me one thing," he continued. "What?"

"Let me take you home." you're taken aback by the offer, "Its fine. I can take the MCPT bus there." you state simply, but he looks damn well near appalled and you hang your head in shame. After a moment of really awkward silence, you begin to pull away. Your face doesn’t show the distress you feel and you fix your pants, then head toward the door when you hear him stand and place a warm hand on your shoulder, “Wait.”

“What?” you snap, and your eyes are now watery as you turn to face him, and the look on his face is nothing short of concerned pity. A minute passes and as he prepares to say something, you shrug the hand off and walk out, ignoring the odd stares from the rest of his band and the patrons as you walk out and take the next bus home.


	2. Three in the morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet up with Droog and the crew, but something tragic happens later in the night.

The next morning, at about seven, you ponder not showing up to the diner. You didn't have to meet Droog until nine, so you drifted off once more, hoping to wake up around eight. But your tired body had other plans and you're woken up by knocks on the door at about ten-thirty. Quickly you go brush your teeth (just in case) and you throw your hair back, not even bothering to change out of your tank and pj pants. Then you go to the door and answered it to find Droog. At your fucking apartment. The one place you never hoped to see him. He takes in your surroundings with a frown, "What, coming to admire my decor, or lack there of?" you snap and the look in his eyes says he's pissed, but you have no idea what about. The taller male lets himself in, "Wow, rude." you sneer and in an instant he's got an ebony toned cuestick out and he lunges for you with a low growl. You dodge the blow and grab your trusty umbrella in the makeshift umbrella basket. Now you're grateful for taking anatomy and the self-defence classes in college.

You jab him in the side with the tip of the umbrella, then take the momentary distraction to open it in his face, effectively startling him enough that he stumbles backward, leaving you enough time to grab his cuestick and tackle him, straddling his hips and holding the black pole of wood at his throat and ready to jab him with the end of your umbrella. "There was a reason I didn't want you here." you growl at him. "That's why I said no to you bringing me home. And how the hell did you find me?" He looks angry, there's pity and......lust? The first two you expect, but then you realize where you were sitting. You give a devious grin and grind down, knowing he's already half hard now. He hisses in pleasure and you chuckle before turning back to the matter at hand. "Now that this kitty cat caught the panther by his dick, i'd like some answers." He gives a low commanding growl and you fight the shiver threatening to inch down your spine. You shift the cue closer to his throat and he swallows, "Fine. I followed the bus here and this mornin I asked the front desk gal about you and she directed me here. Last night, I was apalled due to the sheer fact that you would risk yourself by taking the bus that late. I pity you because I know for a fact no one is hiring, and I guessed you're living off measly unemployment checks that are mostly eaten by bills, leaving you with barely enough to eat, let alone visit a jazz bar and pay for a drink." Tears prick your widened, shocked eyes as he explains himself and you drop the items and jump off of him. "I-I need some time. Alone." he sits up and nodded in understanding. "Alright. But a few collegues of mine want to meet you later tonight. My chauffeur will be here at 9:30 pm sharp to pick you up." You nod in reply, "Ok." he kisses your cheek then he headded out with one last longing look at you. So he wasn't trying to be a dick. That hot, smooth, classy gent actually cared. You smile to yourself, if you're gonna impress his buddies, you gotta put on somethin nice. Luckily, you have a black dress that Porrim would deem worthy. It looks like hers, but yours is all black and it hugs your curvy figure to a t. The soft dress also shows off your gams very nicely with a slit in the slinky skirt. You decide to wear a pair of silver four inch pumps that make you a full six feet tall.

You spend the day casually getting ready and take a shower. When you're done, you curl your hair in such a way that it looks like a longer version of Peggy Carters. That alone takes about three hours and when you're done, you apply makeup in a style that was popular in the twenties (finishing it off with a nice red lipstick), then you carefully put on the dress, as well as black knee highs, and black lace garters with a red ribbon inlay.

At 8 you slip on the shoes and you pull out a wrap that goes with the dress. At 8:25 you grab your small black purse and head down to the lobby, ignoring the stares from the other people within. Soon enough a black limo pulls up and you head out. The chauffeur opens the door and you get in. Its a fucking nice limo. Its big enough for an entire pee-wee soccer team and then some. The driver makes small talk with you, which is awkward to say the least. But you're soon at the destination and Droog is right there, letting you out and subtly checking you out. "Damn...." you heard him say, "How did you know you were coming to a high end casino?" he teased.

"I didn't. I just wanted to catch your attention."

"Well, you did doll. the moment you walked in that bar." His admission makes you blush profusely, but you gain your composure, link your arm with his, and he leads you into the luxury casino.

"Are we even supposed to be here?" you ask cautiously since the two of you just went through a door that said 'Employees only'. He nods, "Yes." he replied simply, leaving you more confused than ever. Soon enough you're led through another another door and you come face to face with the other three men from the bar last night. The angry looking one speaks up, "So, this is the dame who pummeled ya ass Droog." he checks you out before chuckling, which prompted an exasparated "Shut up Slick." from Droog. The brute also checks you out, but he's more subtle about it. "What am I here for?" came your soft voice. "Well, Droog told us about you and with the ass kicking you gave him with an umbrella, we wanted to ask you to join the Midnight Crew." Holy shit! Your face lights up and you nod. Slick grins, "Well, first things first, I'm Spades Slick, muscles back there is Hearts Boxcars, shorty is Clubs Deuce and you already know Diamonds Droog." You wave at the lot, "My name is (y/n)." they grin and wave back. "Hey," Droog spoke up, "I think we should go to the dancefloor and celebrate!"

The casino's ballroom is a busy joint, and you're reminded of a hustling, bustlin speakeasy. Deuce finds a table and sits while the other three whisk you away to the dancefloor. The big band starts up a lively tango and you find yourself in a four-way tango with some very talented dancers. They twirl, spin, and dip you with such a sensual, gentle passion and you can't help but feel a little hot under the collar at the feel of their warm hands. The song ends and you're back with Droog, "Fuck~" he murmurs, "You are quite the little tease when you dance huh~" he purred and your breath caught in your throat. "And I hope you don't mind but you have to live with us." You nod, it would be fine. It beats your trashy apartment in the slums. He let out a low purr, "I'll be over tomorrow to help you pack." "Alright." you reply. "I'll give you my number. And I'll send you the names of the other Mafias near you. Just so you know who to watch out for." he added, and you agreed. Might as well know the lay of the land so you're not completely green.

Three in the morning is when they finally take you home. Droog walks you to your door and he gives you a long, hot kiss goodnight, and you walk in to find six Prospitian men in every corner of your empty apartment. You call Droog and drop the phone, "Who're you fuckers?" you growl and pull out your umbrella and your pearl handled 45" pistol from your clutch. They laugh and surround you, "Well doll, we're The Barrowmen. And considerin that O'l Droogie's got th'hots for ya, we figga we take you'se as collateral. 'Specially since we'se gotta bone t'pick with th'crew." the lead one states as he comes toward you with a leacherous grin plastered on his mug. You promptly spit at him, and it lands right on his eye. "No way in hell am I gonna make it easy." you sneer back. "YOU FUCKING WHORE!" he shouts and back hands you, well, you shoot his ass, aiming for his dick, but he moves and the bullet gets him in the knee. He screams and commands his goons to apprehend you. You manage to nail two more, but the other three knock you outside the head and you black out.

When you come to, you're fucking nude in a poorly lit warehouse and tied to the wall like a prime swine ready to be purchased. The Prospitian ass hole nears you again, "You little bitch. How dare ya shoot me, Aaron Ritz, leader of the Barrowmen?"

"I'm sorry, strange men hide in my apartment, attack me, and I have a gun. Put two and two together dumbfuck." this prompts him to slap you in the face. "I outta teach you a lesson kitty cat." he pauses in contemplation, "BOYS!" he called and in come nine other men. Five of 'em you recognize from the scene in your apartment, they're bloody, bruised, and highly furious with you. You're scared shitless, but you have your signature poker face on. At least, until you're lifted by a rather big guy and he hooks you onto a sex swing, leaving you on display for all of these bastards and with no place to go. Aaron then starts working you all over with skilled, leechourous hands and you fight the urge to whimper and whine as your body grows extremely hot from the inside out. But your breathing betrays you and so does your cunt. He laughs behind you and you close your eyes in defeat. "Lookit this boys, th'she-bitch's pussy's practically drippin for us. I say we teach 'er a lesson for what she did to us." His co-horts speak their agreement and one puts a gag in your mouth, keeping it open for anyone to fuck your face. Speaking of, someone steps in front of you, and you're eye level with a rather thick cock. Then as if on cue, one shoves (you assume its Aaron) into your virgin cunt as the cock in front of you shoves into your open mouth and you scream out of pure pain as hot tears slide down your face. "Goddamn, this is the tightest box I've ever had. Somethin tells me she's a cherry." Fucking shit. Aaron's huge ass ridged dick is balls deep in your cunt and it hurts like a sonnovabitch. But if you can play along, maybe they might let you down and you can do some major dick breaking. Literally. Right now you just focus on getting the dick in your mouth off and hopefully you can wear them out.

Aaron soon starts up a brutal pace and somehow the pain bleeds into pleasure, causing you to fight off low moans as the ridges on his dick make you see stars. You're now reluctantly sucking on the cock in your mouth and you can hear the grunts and moans of both men, which sends an automatic rush of heat to the tightening coil in the pit of your stomach. Soon you feel a warm oil that multiple hands spread across your back and you start feeling hazy. Hazy enough that you up the enthusiasm on sucking the cock in your mouth, even going as far as to deepthroat him. The guy clutches at your hair as his salty, bittersweet seed floods your mouth with a moan on his behalf. "Fuck...keep that shit comin. Never had a dame give such good head. The little slut deepthroated me...." the stated praise causes you to blush and a collective groan resounds from every man in the room. Its only then that you realize the pulsating need coming from your crotch, your moaning through the gag, and Ritz's thrusts are getting rougher, deeper, and more erratic as he gets closer to release. Soon he lets out a pained grunt and he fills you to the brim with hot seed. Another man takes Ritz's place when he pulls out, "Aww Ritz, you didn't let the lady finish." He told his boss, then turned to you, "But its a good thing I'm ready to go and I know what I'm doin doll. You're gonna cum so hard that your head'll spin and you'll come runnin back to Johnny Boy for more." he gloats, you just roll your eyes. "No one fuck her mouth. I wanna hear her scream." Ritz commands and Johnny slides in. Fuck, he's bigger than Ritz. The sensation is borderline pain and pleasure, and the moan escaping your lips is purely automatic. His grimey hand presses right on top of your mound, which makes sure that the cluster of nerves deep inside you is hit dead on with every thrust, and it just causes the coil of heat to become tighter and tighter. Soon your clit is throbbing in time with your pounding heart and the hand (Still maintaining that pressure), slides down and begins working at your clit. Its so blindingly hot and somehow so fucking good, but that coil is so tight that it's threatening to burst and tear you apart at the seams. The asshole fucking you is praising you, talking you through it, and the shame of it all makes it even hotter.

When you finally cum, you see nothing but white from behind your eyelids, your fingers clench at their bond, your toes curl, and you're all but screaming. You black out immedeatly after for gpi knows how long and you're on the floor. Good, because your arms and legs hurt like a bitch, your mind is still mush, and your cunt is throbbing with a horrifically sore need. As your foggy, endorphine filled mind clears a bit more, you notice you're in a long coat and your head is in a warm, comfy carapace lap. A soft sigh escapes your lips, but then it all comes back to you and you fly off the lap and huddle in the corner, whimpering. When you look around, you see four familiar, friendly faces and you relax. A little. "D-Droog?" your voice is cracked, and your scared shitless. But Droog's smile is nothing but soft as he reaches a hand out toward you, "C'mere." he says in a gentle voice that you can't refuse, so you crawl over. He puts you in his lap once more and you curl up against him and silently start crying. He says nothing but he does soothe you with gestures like rubbing your back. Soon the vehicle(?) stops and he carries you out. "We brought your knicknacks and clothes over, and your work uniform is in your room as well." he says softly, trying to distract you. You simply nod. Right now talking is a chore and you feel like you've been whipped across the back. All you want is just a nap and to die in a hole. When he takes you inside, Droog makes a pit stop by what appeares to be a weaponry. "I find that it helps one to sleep easier with their deck or a weapon nearby." he muses, and you find your favorite pistol amongst the weapons. Immedeatly you grab the pearl handled beauty, along with a couple knives, and an umbrella. Slick gives you a look, but Droog knows the perils of going up against an umbrella, so he says nothing. But you have a plan for the umbrella, and you grab extra bullets for the 45" as well as some large BB pellets and some candles. You're gonna rig the umbrella into a stabbing, bullet firing, machine of death. Maybe. Then Droog grabs you a black-backed deck of cards and he begins to merge the weapons with each of the cards, starting with your umbrella as the ace of spades and the pearl-handled pistol as the ace of diamonds. Then he tells you to get a ".55 mm Colt handgun to keep on your person at all times as back up. You nod and clutch at it like a teddybear. You then fill each of the six spots in the wheel and you load the handle. Once Droog is done, he leads you to your room and leaves you to your thoughts, not wanting to smother you. Which is great and all, but you have some major self-destructive tendancies. But you put on a set of your boxer shorts that you use for sleeping, noting that your lounge clothes smell like Droog's laundry soap (which is fresh, but has notes of citrus and sandalwood), and you love it. The coat you were in smells like him and his cologne (which smells a lot like Axe Apollo~) and you snuggle it as you climb into bed and lay the colt on the nightstand before drifting off.

You don't show up for meals at all over the next week. Especially since you've in your bathroom, puking up stomach acid, semen (on the first round of throwing up), and a bit of blood. You had woken up in a sick panic and rushed to the bathroom to puke. Eating is not an option right now, and neither is sleeping. Once you're done dry heaving for the moment, you put on lounge pants and a hoodie in hopes to protect yourself and you huddle with your pillow, the Colt, and Droog's coat in the corner. You're shaking with fear, panic, and fuzzy flashbacks. The boys have often come in to check on you, but you dismiss them curtly and they leave without another word. You've had a similar problem in the past, but it was never this bad. Then you didn't fear for your life. Even though you're around the four most dangerous men in Midnight City, you're afraid for your life. Looking back, you notice that you had a more optimistic view with that low, but now? This is absolute rock bottom. You don't know what to do with yourself, and you have little motivation to do anything anymore.


End file.
